<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Tale of the Golden Trio by TheUltimateUndesirable</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23696314">The Tale of the Golden Trio</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUltimateUndesirable/pseuds/TheUltimateUndesirable'>TheUltimateUndesirable</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angry Ron Weasley, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Bipolar Disorder, Book: The Tales of Beedle the Bard, Complete, Cutting, Daily Prophet, Death, Depressed Harry Potter, Depression, Draco Malfoy Dies, Gen, Good Draco Malfoy, Graphic Description, Harry Potter Dies, Healer Hermione Granger, Heavy Angst, Hurts So Good, I Made Myself Cry, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Major Character(s), Minor Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Murder, No Smut, One Shot, POV Hermione Granger, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-War, Psychological Trauma, Recluse Harry Potter, Ron Weasley Dies, Suicidal Harry, Suicide, The Tale of the Three Brothers, Trauma, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Why Did I Write This?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:13:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,244</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23696314</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUltimateUndesirable/pseuds/TheUltimateUndesirable</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when the trio can't move past the trauma of war? Nothing heart break and an old story retold.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Tale of the Golden Trio</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>If you can’t handle angst DONT read this. SERIOUSLY. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. It is full of DEATH. PACKED full of it. Mental problems and SUICIDE. All MAIN CHARACTER also. I’ve had this fic in my mind for a long time. The similarities to the brothers and the possibility of how trauma can change us all. Note I AM NOT a medical professional of any sort and if you want proper diagnosis and help reach out. </p><p>I'm starting this off with Im sorry. I know I'm horrible for writing this. Absolutely horrible. Emotionally prepare yourself and try not kill me also if you manage to read it.</p><p>Don’t assume all will be well and predictable in the thing called life.</p><p>All things belong to JK etc etc etc.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/189190041@N05/50086300606/in/dateposted-public/">
    
  </a>
</p><p> There once was the Golden Trio. Held higher than any other after the battle of Hogwarts. Even before that in all honesty. Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger. It had been the three of them forever it seemed.</p><p> Traumatic events always changed people, but this one changed the wizarding world as a whole. For the better of course in most cases, but memories still haunted many throughout the country. Some adjusted easier than others across the land depending on location and involvement with the war. All in their own way too.        </p><p>   The Weasley’s were one of the families that struggled the most in the years following the Battle of Hogwarts. Fred’s death had weighed heavily on them that first year specifically. George grieving more than any she knew and rightfully so. Losing who had been beside you literally since you were created? Hermione was unable to fathom his pain and struggle.</p><p>    Part of her own coping mechanism had been to try helping them. Her own parents were lost to her due to unrestorable memories, despite the numerous attempts she had made. So instead she threw herself into Ron’s family. They were close to her and after all, he was her boyfriend.</p><p>   Ron was no different from the rest of the Weasleys, or the world and he struggled too. However his struggle came with unpredictable bursts of emotions that were hard to keep up with. Some days the redhead appeared collected like he was moving on and making progress. They would be followed by sobbed filled nights that turned into days.</p><p>   Other times he was like a loose canon. The littlest thing caused him to snap in anger. Saying the cruelest words that came from the dark depths of his own pain. Oftentimes, even when not directed at her, it would result in her own tears being shed. Especially knowing at heart he didn’t mean most of it. It was like the times he had worn the horcrux.</p><p>    Harry, while not spouting hurtful words, was still very little help to anyone as he dealt with his own battle. Her best friend had more than anyone else to shift through emotionally, and Hermione knew it was hard on him. In the beginning he had tried to be strong for them and tried to be there for Ginny especially. Soon though that front he kept trying to keep up for everyone finally gave way, and he quit coming to the burrow as often. His and Ginny’s “meant to be” relationship never became more.</p><p>    The Prophet and Ministry both had wanted Harry to make numerous public appearances and speeches starting not even two weeks after the battle was over. Even Kingsley had talked to him about being a strong example for the community so as to inspire them on rebuilding their lives in the comforting reassurance of safety. He had felt obligated to do so.</p><p>   On top of his weekly appearances where he forced his pain filled emotions into a smile of relief and hope Harry also made it a point to go to every funeral he found out about. Even the death eaters. After testifying for Draco Malfoy he also made it a point to attend every war trial also. Hermione had thought it was originally helping him, his own coping mechanism found, but she soon was encouraging him not to go. Trying to assure him over and over again none of it was his fault. He disagreed. In his mind he had failed to rise to whatever standards he had thought were required of him. After finishing closing himself off with the Weasleys he closed off the public and in the end the world entirely.</p><p>   Once Harry quit coming to the Burrow even for Sunday dinners she and Ron tried making it a point to see him go to him instead. All in all their best friend no longer ventured into the wizarding world, or even the muggle world, and only sparingly would he leave Grimmauld Place for a walk that wouldn’t last long or with the hopes of a short fly that lasted only a little bit longer. Even that stopped after a while and it hurt her to see, more than it did Ron for some reason, what was happening to Harry.</p><p>   While the other Weasleys continued on with life, slowly recovering like most others in the wizarding world, Ron threw himself into helping George. Trying to restore Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes to the level the twins once had it after almost a year and a half without business. Hermione had thought being only 6 months post war was too soon, but George had insisted. They all came to the conclusion as a family that perhaps it was what George needed.</p><p>    While memories kept her awake late at night she tried to push through it. Harry hid away, George and Ron went to the pubs after long unnecessary hours of work sometimes, and she read. This time her focus was something she had never studied. She read up on a variety of mind healing and muggle psychology. On history and how civilizations bounced back. Family loss and dynamics.</p><p>   The specific study on twin psychology she had found had been particularly hard to read through. Sure Molly and Arthur lost a son, Ron and the other siblings lost a brother, but George? George almost literally lost the other half of who he was based on the type of relationship him and Fred had had. Trying to adjust to a world without that had to have felt like your mind being split. In the muggle world there were support groups called Twinless Twins but in the wizarding world there was no such thing.</p><p>   Depression vs manic depression had been another fascinating thing. Harry clearly suffered from depression, and Hermione thought perhaps manic depression since it sounded worse. However she quickly came to the conclusion that it was Ron who was dealing with what seemed to be manic depression. While Harry was at a constant low of never changing despair, Ron went through extreme moments of energy and others of great anger or sadness. Bipolar disorder being the most popular term for manic depression and it fit to her viewpoint. From her own self analysis she determined she mostly dealt with slight amounts of PTSD, although she was sure they all suffered from that.</p><p>   Hermione had one day boldy brought her concerns forward to the Weasleys, shortly after what was the most saddening lack of spirit Christmas she had ever heard of or seen. Including Harry’s childhood where he spent Christmas with no presents, cooking for everyone else, and stuck in the cupboard. She mentioned the possibility of seeing a mind healer to everyone and how maybe it would be good for them all. There were only 2 in Britain but there was the option of seeing muggle psychiatrists.</p><p>   Arthur, Charlie, and Ginny had been for it while Molly was hesitant and unsure but she agreed her uncertainty was valid. Bill and Percy however both believed things were too complicated and should be handled within the wizarding world, but didn’t seem to think it was necessary. Percy especially declared that everyone would, and needed, to figure things out for themselves in their own time. Ron had, unsurprisingly, been against the idea but it was George that shocked her by appearing to briefly ponder the possibility in his head. In the end he still had said no. First softly, then clearer, and then with anger and the slamming of his hands against the large table before storming out of the room.</p><p>  After that she left it to be with the family, but still she encouraged her boyfriend. Despite her private protests and pleas Ron didn’t even entertain the idea for a second. Listening to reason wasn’t a possibility and the redhead hadn't even wanted her to go. Regardless she went because she felt it would help her after all her reading. So while she talked to professionals in the muggle world Ron and George continued on with their many evenings at the pub.</p><p>  From then on out it only worsened for Ron and George, especially come spring time as the weather warmed. He went from coming home to their flat with a decent buzz every few days to completely pissed faced on the weekends. Over the course of the following few months it progressed to where they were drinking heavily almost every day. The only time they weren’t drunk were work hours and Hermione knew the only reason they were lively with smiles and laughs had to be from hangover potions and the modified pepper up potion they had taken to buying in Knockturn Alley.</p><p>   One weekend specifically Ron had been completely off his arse. He had never come home and the Saturday Prophet featured a lovely photo of him crawling up the stairs of the Leaky Cauldron, presumably to a room before falling on his belly laughing. Hermione had demanded putting a stop to all of it right then. The fight between them had been loud and harsh. Every form of denial, hateful comment, and accusation they could think of was thrown at one another finally. Months of built up things she had wished she had said. However nothing he said hurt more than the hard slap she had received across the face after telling him to get a grip on his life and act like an adult. Their relationship ended that night.</p><p>   After their break up, and his moving into the flat above the joke shop with George, nothing seemed to deter the redhead at all anymore. It was like 6th year all over again, only a hundred times worse. His new bachelor status confidence had led to chaos especially once the media had gotten ahold of the story. With being a member of the Golden Trio with constant presence and interaction with the public witches, and even some oddly hopeful wizards, began flocking to him.  </p><p>  Slowly Ronald Weasley’s name became one of annoyance in the Prophet, for her and probably his family at least, due to his countless acts of carelessness. From snogging on dance floors to blow jobs in the alleys and brawls at the bar Ron became known for being himself at last, apart from her and Harry. The name he made was finally all his own.</p><p>   The weeks came and went with a certain amount of blandness to them for Hermione. She focused on nothing but her healer training and still Hermione tried every other week to make an effort to talk to Harry. Ron had eventually quit wanting to go see him after her mind healer suggestion and was too much of a self absorbed drunkard to think of putting an effort in, especially now that she wasn’t there to bring it up. Even though Harry spoke very little, and mostly shut her out after her mind healer talk, still she tried.</p><p>   Of all the people in the entire world, it had been the desk clerk who had rushed in her office to tell her the terrifying news one fall day later that year. To tell her that Ronald Weasley had been brought in for emergency after an attack in Knockturn Alley. Despite their relationship status and how it ended Hermione stood so fast, forgetting to move back in the process, that she hit her desk. He was still her Ron in the basic of ways, as much as her mind protested it.</p><p>   The sight of the redhead’s lifeless body once she had reached the emergency ward was surreal. He was unmoving and appeared empty. His shirt and chest ripped open, a gaping hole in his stomach. A physical fight turned duel as the other male changed his tactics, leading to a powerful curse shot straight through his body at close range. Hermione had sicked up in the bin in the corner before she started crying as she tried to breathe between vomiting and sobs. Even having seen more dead bodies in her life than any normal human nothing compared to witnessing Ron laying there.</p><p>  Harry had made an appearance at the hospital in a surprisingly short amount of time after her patronus, which had taken all the emotional strength she could muster to cast. It was the first time she had seen him in weeks. He was sallow looking from not being outside and clearly not eating well, and he was oddly unreactive even when she threw herself in his arms. Their best mate of almost 9 years, one of the closest friendships anyone could imagine, a part of the Golden Trio, gone forever. She didn’t know what to do to herself besides cling to Harry in that moment. When they finally forced themselves to depart to give the Weasley’s their own space to grieve yet another loss, she felt like a piece of her heart was left behind in Ron’s limp hand that she had clung to as she apologized.</p><p>   The next day was just as bad as when she was called in. While she hadn't been there when he was found by Arthur on his apartment floor she felt almost desensitized helping assess his body. George’s body. Once full of so much humour. So many laughs, over bubbly happiness, was now cold and expressionless. The smell of firewhiskey still on his person. It wasn’t until she left the room that her heart beat back to life full force with a more painful ache than she could have imagined. One that sent her sliding down the walls and holding her knees. The pain from Ron having not even had 24 hours to adjust now contained a new level of sorrow she was unfamiliar with. He was too close to her after her years with Ron, and the death of the brothers too close together to be bearable.</p><p>   Medical reports came back later that day showing not only enough firewhiskey for alcohol poisoning but also an unidentified potion containing high contents of both runespoor venom and nightshade leaves. Highly toxic substances to humans. Given the information they had had no choice but to mark it as a sucide and accept George Weasley had taken his own life.   </p><p>   When Hermione had gone to Harry full of her own grief later that night she had been met full on with his own that he kept confined to his time by himself. Together they spent the better part of 2 days wholed up in his house. Crying on the sofa, binging muggle telly, and trying to force themselves to eat shite food when all they wanted to do was be sick. For once Harry seemed human again.</p><p>  She didn’t think it would ever end until finally everything ran dry, calmed as she accepted what was, and she had found the physical and mental strength to leave. A large part in the back of her brain told her it was a bad idea to leave Harry alone so soon, but instead of offering her mind healer or self help suggestions she simply told him she would be back the next day. Which she did and surprisingly he hadn’t protested her repeated presence so soon. He almost seemed to welcome her company and throughout fall and winter they spent the better part of it hanging out in his sitting room or kitchen on Wednesdays and Sundays.     </p><p>   Hermione had finally had to admit it to herself, after numerous attempts, that Harry was not going to stop being a recluse. Although she was allowed in more frequently than she had been before Ron and George’s death he still didn’t allow any others. Not Molly, Arthur, Bill, Luna, Neville, or Seamus. Not even Andromeda or Teddy had been allowed over, in spite of his godfather title, and she was sure it was because all he felt was guilt at even mentioning their names. Ron and her were the only two who he had ever allowed to visit him. He never left Grimmauld and apparently it wasn’t going to change any time soon. All she could try to do was be there, occasionally offer a subtle nudge or encouragement when discussing their old friends' lives, and be thankful for their continued and regrowing friendship.</p><p>   Soon that ache that had been incredibly painful for the longest time had eventually lessened to something more minimal. Something she could manage to mourn without a breakdown thanks to Harry and more regular visits to her mind healer. Over the next year things actually started to advance in her life. She had her good friend mostly back and she was promoted from an assistant healer to a fully certified healer thanks to her constant work and study. Her pay increased along with her emotional confidence and security in herself and even her nights of restless nightmares lessened. There were even a few young men who had hinted their interest in her romantically, and although flattering she politely declined their advances for just not feeling ready. Really the only negative was the press still tried to nab her on occasion, but thankfully not as often as they had after her break up with Ron.</p><p>   It didn’t last.The day was clear as the day Ron had been murdered. Only this time it was less formal. She had been in the cafe around the corner from the hospital enjoying her afternoon cappuccino still early summer when Kreacher suddenly appeared from thin air. Startling her and almost causing her to knock her cup off the table. All the old elf had said was the word Master before grabbing her arm and whisking them away without warning.  </p><p>   Nothing could have prepared her for the sight she saw as she tried to catch herself from the unprepared apparation. The tears flowed instantly and a sob choked her as she dropped to her knees not having fully balanced. Her best friend. Harry. Lying almost peacefully on his back in Sirius's bed with his forearms resting on the pillow. Each on one side of his head with the same matching long cut visible from wrist to elbow on his forearms.</p><p>  The blood had long since stopped flowing. Although it was wet against his elbows and pillow where it had pooled, it no longer ran. The dirty old pillow was soaked in the fluid. So soaked the dark maroon had even begun soaking into the mattress itself. Harry was gone. Taking his own life after ordering Kreacher out for shopping and wishing not to be distrurbed. There was no need, reason or point in doubting the elf’s words.</p><p>   Hermione knew why he had done it and part of her hated herself for not being more vigilant. The second he heard the official death count finally released by the Ministry after the 2 year memorial of the war so as to include every death eater that finally received the dementors kiss, he had all but turned to stone. The only thing capable of holding the weight of so many deaths upon his shoulders no matter how much they weren't his to carry. If only he killed Voldermort sooner was the only explanation he ever gave for why he felt they were all his fault.</p><p>  So many times had she suggested a mind healer or muggle psychologist. Tried to get him help and even try to help him herself. Nothing had ever come of it other than poor attempts at pretending or subtle encouraging him. She had thought finally he was making further progress to good mental condition, even recently having gone as far to entertain the idea of attending the Quidditch World Cup even though it was laced with memories of Ron for them. There was no stopping blaming herself for not looking at the event as a trigger point.</p><p>  Like George, part of his tore at her because there was no denying what was done and it was a lie to herself to say she hadn’t seen it as a high possibility. This time she had no one to cling to as she struggled to accept it and instead clung to Harry’s body, not caring when her bushy hair became matted in blood from resting her head on his unmoving chest to cry. To mourn her best friend’s death and the cause. To mourn another loss of the Golden Trio leaving her alone in the world that hurt them to the point they had not managed to recover the trauma no young witch or wizard should have had to struggle through.</p><p>    When the news of the Chosen One’s Chosen Death had hit the public Hermione did not once choose to comment. Anger and hurt fueled her for once and any person that advanced towards her with a notebook, camera, or their hands in their pocket got a stinging hex shot at their feet in warning as she forced herself into work for distraction. Everyone quickly learned to avoid her unless they were having medical issues which was shocking and she had to admit she was disappointed with the validation to shoot at proper hex at a hungry journalist.</p><p>    Everyday following Harry’s death she didn’t have a choice but to contact the support group she had joined shortly after Ron’s passing. Otherwise she didn't know what she would do. Her colleagues were friends by the definition and sure she kept distance contact with a few of their school mates. No one came even close to what she had with Ron and Harry. Losing Harry felt like the remainder of her heart had been ripped apart.</p><p>   The Ministry’s reaction to his death had been actually filled with great sorrow, mostly from Kingsley but the Prophet’s report had been a tangled mixture of regret and a rude amount of expectedness. Claiming it was only a matter of time before someone so damaged committed such an act and what else did they think would happen to someone who had once been possessed by Voldermort. Someone that shut themselves off from the world in every aspect and refused to be a role model for society. As if it was his responsibility to be a guide and beacon of light for the rest of his life.</p><p>   The public’s reaction was shockingly in agreement and the statements and reports received on what they thought they knew of Harry’s life was hurtful to her because they were purely based on assumption about her dearest friends struggles. Not that she should have been shocked by the world’s reaction. The media always blew things out of proportion and there were still plenty of pureblood bigots that still existed in society after all. Still to the day though no one knew the full truth of his life besides herself and Ron and it would stay that way.</p><p>  What was oddly shocking to her was the reported death of one Draco Malfoy. It was the next big article following right behind Harry's death only a week later. According to the report their old classmate Blaise Zabini, had stopped at Malfoy Manor for their scheduled Thursday brunch like normal. Only this time he found his old housemate suspended from the grand staircase in the entry. His well dressed body hanging heavily against the thick rope around his pale neck.</p><p>   The Ministry had also surprised her by investigating his death. Questioning the house elves who claimed the young Malfoy had ordered them to not interfere and to move to Hogwarts should they be allowed by the Headmistress. A formally sealed note found on foyer table confirmed their statements along with the directions that the entire Malfoy vault was to be donated to Hogwarts, St.Mungo’s, The Quibbler, and Scamander’s Institute of Magizoology and Herbology. A small organization that had just been founded earlier that year in southern Wales by none other than a freshly graduated Rolf Scamander with the support of his father in memory of his grandfather, the famous Newt Scamander.</p><p>   The Malfoy vault was to be closed once it’s funds were properly dispersed and all items removed. Draco also ordered afterwards that the vault was to be closed and key handed back to the goblins of Gringotts. After that the Ministry could do as they deemed fit with the Manor and Draco's note included the suggestion and encouragement to burn it down via a fiendfrye. With his father sentenced to life in Azkaban and his mother moved aboard he was officially the head of the family. His directions were considered law by the ancient Manor magic and as well as by the laws of the Ministry of Magic.</p><p>  In a way it was touching. Hermione couldn't help but relate the Slytherins death to that of Harry's. While it had been announced a week after Harry's death it turned out Malfoy had hung himself only 4 days after. Literally paying back the wizarding world with a vast fortune for things she could only assume he felt were his fault with his family having been Death Eaters housing the lunatic destroying their world. Granted the prat did indeed have more guilt to carry than Harry ever did, to her it wasn't enough to make his death justifiable. While she had never communicated with him past the battle and didn't know his struggles he was still another young man with more trauma than most she was sure. She knew enough also that he shouldn't have had to suffer through the pressure of a bigoted family from birth and through war before finally succumbing to a fate everyone wished upon him and he apparently believed he deserved.</p><p>    Draco's death turned out to be the disturbing boost the community seemed to need following the Savior's death. Many mysterious and historical artifacts were collected from Malfoy Manor and it's thousands of years old vaults. They went to a variety of locations between the Ministry to be studied, destroyed, auctioned, or preserved. Each organization the Slytherin had chosen was reputable and a brilliant cause, granted some protested the worth of the Quibbler but Hermione knew he had done it for Luna and for the hopes of a better newspaper. The fact they all were receiving enough gold each to sustain 2 Malfoy life times caused excitement to buzz in the air again.</p><p>  Part of herself felt something akin to sadness that hardly anyone actually cared that Malfoy had killed himself, but it was also hard for her to feel much so soon after Harry's death. Everyone else only seemed to care about the money he was donating. No one saw him as the boy who had had little choice and was trying to right wrongs in what could only be described as an absolutely horribly wrong noble self sacrificing act. He was subject she had discussed with her psychologist and she had forgiven him over a year prior, but any lingering hostile feelings she may have been harboring vanished into thin air over that weekend.</p><p>   In the end all charities received their money, and all but St.Mungos honored his name. First she had to make it a point to talk to the young Scamander personally about what she knew of Draco Malfoy and the trauma of war before he honored it. He was too young at the time of the battle in her opinion to truly grasp the situation in full, but after an afternoon of tea Rolf turned out to be a caring and understanding soul. Trying to justify Malfoy’s worth to the Scamander had caused her to feel a little better, but in the weeks passing by her attempts continued to fail with St.Mungos.</p><p>  Harry, and even Draco, weighed heavily on her mind, with Ron and George lingering in the background as old wounds that were leaking and trying to flow free again. She focused by making sure Harry's funeral was a private affair with only a limited number of people closest to him allowed. Including the Weasleys, Andromeda and Teddy, McGonagall, Hagrid, Luna and a few others she thought he would want to see in a healthier state of mind. Knowing he was finally with his parents, Sirius, and Ron made it a little easier than she thought it would be to leave, even though it was still with tear tracks down her cheeks.  </p><p>  Draco's funeral had been an even smaller affair with only his mother, Andromeda, Teddy, Blaise Zabini, and 3 other people she was unfamiliar with attending. She wasn't entirely sure why she went to his. Something felt right about it though and the emptiness inside her felt a little fuller once she left the graveyard of the man that had been her and her friends bully all their school life.</p><p>  Maybe it was because he didn't deserve his end just like Harry and George hadn't. For her death by their own hands hurt her heart more than Ron's unfortunate accident. Even though he had fallen into such a state to allow it to happen it wasn't the feeling of hopelessness that had driven them into death's open arms.</p><p>   Hermione quit her job at St.Mungos shortly after the funerals. Not willing to recognize Draco's selflessness bothered her too much to move past and be proud of her place with them. If the hospital for all of wizarding Britain couldn't move past the views of war, viewpoints that implied people weren't redeemable like her best friend and their Saviour had thought he was before he ended his life, then she wanted nothing to do with them.</p><p>  The next step in her life came to her with little effort and little doubt. Hermione became a private healer traveling from home to home taking house calls all across the country. Days were long and the hours longer. Then the years began to come and go without much notice as time melted away into a blurry blob.</p><p>    No matter how busy she kept herself though it never seemed enough to occupy her. More days than she cared to admit she spent visiting Ron, George and Harry just because she could. When she was feeling especially low she even went to visit Draco's grave. Thinking about how everything had gone wrong and what could have been different, while with her dearest friends she spoke of her current life without them. Imagining what they would be doing or saying and occasionally replaying old cherished memories between them.</p><p>   Eventually in her spare time when she had no cases, she dedicated herself to the Founding Four Magical Introduction School for pre Hogwarts students that was finally opened much to her long awaited anticipation and aid. It had been discussed for over a decade and took over 5 to organize and construct. They focused the majority on young muggleborns and half bloods. Introducing them to magic and preparing them for a future at Hogwarts with the basic knowledge and understanding of the wizarding world.</p><p>   So it continued over the years. Private healing, volunteering at the introductory school, and visiting her long dead friends. There wasn't much else she desired in life. Lovers never felt what she knew they should, too much of her heart was missing for that. Children held no interest in her without love. The Weasleys, along with her classmates, had disappeared into the past and the closest thing she had to friends were the workers at the school. Only occasionally did they gather outside of the building for a bit to eat or drinks.</p><p> Hermione was just fine with that and her typical outings for supplies, visiting the rest of the Golden Trio, and a quick muggle shag sometimes. She preferred the warm little cottage she had bought for herself. Small and humble and all she needed in this life.</p><p>  It wasn't until many decades later when she was just an old witch, her young brown bushy hair thinned and greyed, that she felt the odd pull. She had just been debating fully retiring or not before the warmth of her crackling fire, curled up under her blanket reading the newest book. One produced by a young lad fresh from America discussing his findings and comparison of different wizarding worlds medical methods.</p><p>   The sudden urge to visit everyone again was unexpected and strong enough that Hermione frowned at first, closing her book and removing her glasses contemplating the feeling. She had been quite young according to her current age since the last time she had felt such a desperate desire to go to them. Even though she had already made her weekly visit, and almost only outing anymore, once again she layered herself up to go into the cold winter night air. Gut feelings were something she had long ago learned to gravitate towards thanks to life experience and due to that she extinguished her fireplace and the lights with a lazy flick of her wand.</p><p>   After locking the door and feeling the need to strengthen her wards, like always the last 23 years she visited Draco Malfoy first. Even though few else in the world cared she had made him important to her and always let him know in the end she was thankful for what he had done. That despite his foolish youth and wrongful actions he had redeemed himself. Everytime she also couldn't help but remind him he hadn't needed to die to prove it and that his actions during the final battle had done so otherwise he would have been in Azkaban. Hermione always left him with a tender rub on his headstone.</p><p>   From there she would apparate straight to Ottery St.Catchpole where she would sit between Ron and George for a while. To remind them how missed and loved they were despite the poor manners and crude jokes Oftentimes making a joke of her own at how she was sure Ron would choke on his pumpkin juice knowing she had visited Malfoy before him. Smiles always formed on her in their time together until she finally promised them until next time with a kiss each to the stones holding their names.</p><p>   Godric's Hollow was always her last stop. Harry was always last because for her he held the most pain. Once part of her had been angry at him for leaving her alone, but it had never actually kept her away. It wasn't his fault and she didn't, couldn't, blame her best friend after all she had learned about psychology. 6 out of 10 visits with him resulted in tears. Good or bad it didn't matter. Their bond was one of true family and she missed him most of all like the closest brother. Together through it all and until the end.</p><p>   She winced as a particularly hard gust of cold wind blew past her and slowly she got to her feet with the aid of Harry's large gravestone. The shine of the moonlight reflecting off of it before a shadow blocked it out. Her skin tingled and she could only nod her head in acceptance.</p><p>    Turning the logical part of her brain that wanted to protest off like a switch she turned around to see the shadow. The incredibly tall, dark and hooded figure was one of myth and legend. Then again the same was said of the deathly hallows. Yet here she was looking at death like someone she knew without fear.</p><p>  “I wondered if you’d really show,” Hermione sniffed, wiping her cold runny nose on her wrist. The hooded figure didn't talk and only it's black cloak moved lightly in the continual soft winter breeze, brushing the snow around it.</p><p>  Surprised as she was she also really wasn't. The moment she felt the pull to her friends so randomly and at an odd hour it had been like an unexplainable sixth sense. Where the part of her that often wondered when the time would be just knew now.</p><p>   Hermione had noted the similarities many times upon her reading the Tales of Beedle the Bard to the young 9-11 year old witches and wizards. The Tale of the Three Brothers hit her deeply inside. Each time it caused a small mixed expression that came from a mixture of happy and horrible memories. Memories of many nights and adventures under a cloak, months huddled together for warmth, discovering folklore and unfathomable magic. Memories of drunken power, hopeless longing, and a humble life…...</p><p>   Tears leaked from her eyes without her registering it and a small wrinkled smile formed on her face. “I’m ready to see them,” Hermione said confidently. Decades of longing and unvoiced pain in a life that felt hollow turning to actual happiness in her voice for once. “I’ve missed them.”</p><p>   The hooded figure moved for the first time. Long skeletal fingers emerging and coming together before slowly pulling back apart. It's cloak stretching like a blanket, but instead it revealed a bright shimmering image against the blackness.</p><p>   An image of all the ones she had loved became clear before her. Their faces were glowing with golden happiness like unweighted freedom and life. They stood at the edge of what appeared to be the Black Lake with a platform off to the other side. A sobbed laugh of both disbelief and relief escaped her as her tears turned to those of joy. All she had to do was move forward and she could be with them and nothing could stop her from taking that chance at last. So Hermione went with death gladly, departing her long and tired life at last.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm glad that is finally out of my system. I'm going to go cry under my blankets now. If you wish to join me without hating me I created a Facebook group, multi ship and multi fandom where I share snippets and fic recs and basically anyone can share anything regarding fanfic and art. 18+ ONLY. Ultimate Undesirable - Fan Fic &amp; Fan Art</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>